Innocent Inspiration
by FlitterFlutterFly
Summary: Syaoran Li is an established author with a bad childhood. His favorite café hires a new waitress and turns his life around. Where he first scoffs, he now admires. AU. Syaoran/Sakura (SxS). Oneshot.


**Genres: **General; Angst; Romance; Slight Humor; Mild Horror

**Rating: **T

**Pairing:** SyaoranSakura

**Warning: **Childhood Abuse

**Summary: **Syaoran Li is an established author with a bad childhood. His favorite café hires a new waitress and turns his life around. Where he first scoffs, he now admires. AU. A story of hope.

**Note: **Uses Japanese honorifics such as –san and –sama; otherwise nothing much to note

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Cardcaptor Sakura nor any of the characters herein mentioned.

* * *

The first time I saw her, I had to resist the urge to sneer. Her auburn hair was cut in an almost boyish fashion not befitting of her age. Her green eyes shone with innocence and her smile was all joy. Her waitress outfit did nothing to better the effect. Nor did her cheerful attitude. She was like a five year old trapped in a young women's body.

She worked at a small café near my house that I often stopped at to gain inspiration. It was a quiet little place and I enjoyed it. That was, until they hired her. Her nametag read Sakura, but I didn't care. She took my order nicely enough. Then she proceeded to almost spill my coffee three times and nearly dumped my plate of cinnamon buns on my lap. I scowled at her. She apologize profusely of course, but by then I was back to ignoring her.

I almost didn't come back to next day, but I always did my best writing there so I swallowed my misgivings. Almost as suspected, she was my waitress again. She blushed in embarrassment when she saw me, but at least she didn't stammer when she took my order. As I waited for my espresso to come, I opened up my laptop and began typing. I had just started a new book, and it was quickly taking form.

"Are you an author Li-san?" He voice startled me. Like always, I had gotten lost in my works.

"How do you know my name?" I asked the first thing that came to my mind. She blushed, setting down my steaming cup.

"Hiiragizawa-sama told me." She murmured, glancing towards the back of the café. I almost groaned. Eriol Hiiragizawa was a distant cousin of mine and incidentally the owner of the café.

"Yes, I am an author." I said roughly. I turned my back on her then and got back to my writing, intent on ignoring her. She seemed to get the message and left. I was relieved.

I went to bed that night thinking about her. Somewhere in my mind, I felt slightly guilty for being so mean to her. I couldn't really help it though. Her thoughtless innocence drove me insane. People like her never understood that life wasn't all rainbows and hugs. In life, people weren't always friendly. Love doesn't make the world go round. I knew that better than anyone.

_The car door slammed closed. Footsteps crunched on the sidewalk, coming to the house. I shivered in my room, clutching my bear tightly in fear. He was coming home from the bar._

"_Where are you son?" I heard his growl, but did not answer. He stumbled though the house, searching. "Where are you, my little wolf."_

_The old nickname brought tears to my eyes, but I refused to let them be shed. He was closer now, I couldn't move._

"_Are you hiding from me? You know better than that." He was right outside the door and I gulped. Slowly, he opened it. I took in the sight of my father, blearily drunk and grinning. "There you are."_

_He approached me. I sniffed softly. "Aren't you a little old to be playing with that thing." His voice held distaste. I tried to stop him, but he was too strong. He grabbed my bear, my only possession, and ripped it in half. I screamed as he laughed. Then he turned on me._

"_Little wolf. You've been a bad boy." I started crying then as the first hit landed. Punch after punch after kick. I curled up in a ball, trying to keep my screams and whimpers to a minimum. He only laughed harder._

_I felt one of my ribs crack first. Then my shin. My head was given little damage. He knew that if he hit me there, I would have a hard time covering it up to the teachers. I almost wished he did knock my head around. Then maybe I could slip into unconsciousness._

_When he was done with me, he left the room. I lay bleeding on the floor, unable to move. In the morning the police would come, having received a call from one of the neighbors. I would be given to an orphanage, but never adopted. I lost my childhood at the tender age of six. It would never return._

I woke up with a start, breathing heavily. It was the same dream, the same memory that haunted my every night. It was that one scene that became the theme of my every novel. That guided my every action. I will be forever marked and hurting.

I did not care. I was my own man now. I was a successful author. So what if I pushed away everyone near me. I didn't care.

Or did I?

I resolved to forget about that last thought and to get ready for the day. It was nearly eight anyways.

...

"It will be right out Li-san."

I nodded to her, the closest I ever got to a thank you. She smiled at me. I watched her go to the kitchen, a spring in her step. There always was.

"Hello Cousin." I turned to glare as Eriol sat down at my table without invitation.

"What do you want?" I asked him. He shook his head.

"Tut tut. That's no way to treat family." He said. I frowned.

"Family doesn't treat me better." I said, turning to look out the window at the passing cars and people.

Eriol blinked at me. "Syaoran." He said firmly. "Let it go. Your father," he spat out the word, "is in jail for life. You need to move on."

I turned back to him. "Move on? I will never move on. He shaped my childhood. I can't sleep without seeing his face." My voice was violent.

A soft cough alerted us to her presence. She set down my order without saying a word, only bowing her head to Eriol. I scowled at her as she left.

"You don't need to hold on to it." Eriol left me then, following after her.

I glared then at my coffee, then at my laptop. Who was he to say what I could and could not do?

...

"My mother died a few years ago." Her soft voice broke me from my work, as it had done many times before. I blinked at her. "I miss her very much. But I know she would want me to be happy."

Her sparkling green eyes did not look quite as cheerful now as she looked at me. For some reason, I felt sad by this.

"My mother died giving birth to me." I said slowly. I did not know why I was telling her this, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

"I'm sorry." She looked ever more disheartened by this news.

"It's okay." I managed to say, slightly embarrassed. She gave me a soft smile.

"I read some of your books. They're very good." She paused, biting her bottom lip as I noticed she did often. "But, they just seem so sad." She stared at me then with an expression so open and honest. I said nothing as she left again to go to another table.

I didn't know what I would say.

...

I realized what she was doing to me nearly a month later. I had just sent in my manuscript to my editor, and was awaiting comments.

"I think this is some of your best work yet Li-san." My editor, Kaho Mizuki, seemed rather pleased. "It certainly isn't as depressing. This should bring you far more popularity than any of your other novels."

It took me a second to understand. I truly hadn't seen exactly what I had been writing until that moment.

Like usual, it was about a boy who lost his childhood. This boy's parents had both died and he was living with his grandparents. When they died too, he ran away and tried to live on his own.

The difference was small, but there. As he moved to a new town by himself, he met a girl his age. She had a dysfunctional family, but laughed anyway. She taught the boy how to cook and clean, and in turn he opened up to her.

"I have a title for it." I said suddenly.

That night, I did not dream.

...

"Sakura-san." She looked surprised. As she should be. That was the first time I had used her name.

"Yes Li-san?" She asked prettily. I took out the object from my bag and handed it to her. I was wrapped neatly in red paper.

"Open it please." She did as I asked, opening it with delicacy I wouldn't have expected.

"Hope?" She inquired curiously, reading the cover.

"It's my new book." I told her. She opened it, looked at me, and smiled. I smiled back.

"Thank you." She whispered. I said nothing.

...

The next day, when I came back, she was waiting.

"Li-san." She started. I interrupted her.

"Syaoran. Call me Syaoran."

She blushed but complied. "Syaoran-san. I wanted to thank you for your present. I read it, it was very good."

I touched her chin gently, forcing her to look at me. "Will you go out to eat with me tonight?" I asked.

She blushed harder. "Yes." She mumbled, and then retreated quickly as her name was called from the kitchen.

I sat back in my chair as I watched her go. I had found some new innocent inspiration. And I wasn't planning on letting it go anytime soon.

* * *

There you have it. It came to me suddenly and I just had to write it. Hope you enjoyed.


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